


The First Meeting

by SilverCyanide (LemonFairy)



Series: Legerdemain [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen, Genderfluid Character, Genderqueer Character, Queer Themes, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 12:44:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonFairy/pseuds/SilverCyanide
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The LGBT+ group Enjolras and Combeferre are pioneering has their first meeting and they learn there's nothing quite like awkward introductions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> (Sorry if you get update notifs for this--I'm just doing some cleaning up/editing.)

Much to Enjolras’ displeasure, Combeferre gives zir a stern talking to about “not plastering the campus with posters so as not to get Professor Valjean into trouble”. Ze’s still allowed to tack up some posters though, so over the next couple of days non-nondescript pieces of paper promoting “an off-campus safe space for students who are non-conforming in their gender and sexuality, including lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender individuals” pop up on student bulletin boards and near doors into academic buildings. “303 N. Plumet street” is printed across the bottom, large enough to see but small enough to be discreet in hopes that no one will bother Professor Valjean about it. They still don’t have a proper name: Enjolras and Combeferre have been rejecting each other’s ideas even after they posted the fliers. (Enjolras will not admit it but the most recent one Combeferre suggested, The GSA Society, though still terrible, is sort of growing on zir. GSAS is not a nice acronym, but it’s certainly not the worst.) 

Combeferre and Enjolras arrive at Professor Valjean’s home at quarter to seven, hoping they aren't interrupting anything by being a few minutes early. Cosette lets them in like they are old friends, offering anything they need and inquiring about their weeks.

“The basement’s just down these stairs,” Cosette informs, pulling open a door just around the corner. The doorbell rings and Cosette immediately jumps to fetch it. From behind, Combeferre and Enjolras can make out Courfeyrac when the door opens, unmistakable in her dashing lacy dress.

“Hi!” she says brightly. “I hope I’m in the right—ah, I see I am.” She’s spotted Enjolras and Combeferre and waves at them as she slips her flats off.

“Pardon me, I’m Lily Courfeyrac,” she says as she turns back to Cosette.

“Cosette,” Cosette replies. “I—well, live here.”

“That would make sense. I was wondering how someone other than these two beat me here. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” says Cosette and she sounds utterly genuine. She glances back over to where Enjolras and Combeferre are still standing, and shoos them toward the door. “I can take care of this,” she insists. “Please, make yourselves at home.”

Courfeyrac, long hair spilling over her shoulders, takes a wrist in each hand and replies, “We will. Thank you.” as she drags her friends down the staircase.

The basement is cozy, with carpet that doesn’t scratch and couches you could probably sleep on. There’s a door in the corner that’s open to a small bathroom. Courfeyrac leads the exploration by flopping onto the couch and sighing happily.

“This is so much better than my couch,” she mumbles, then glances around at Combeferre and Enjolras. Combeferre has taken a seat in an armchair, and Enjolras is looking hesitantly at the half spot on the couch between the chair and Courfeyrac. She rolls her eyes and moves her feet so that Enjolras can sit down.

“Thank you,” ze says, and though it sounds dismissive, Courfeyrac can tell it’s sincere. She grins and sits up so she can ruffle zir hair.

“Nervous about this?” she asks, because Enjolras is great in a crowd but this—their own group—is something new. Enjolras shrugs.

“Not particularly.” Combeferre and Courfeyrac both see the way zir fingers drum against the edge of the couch but say nothing.

All three hear the doorbell go off upstairs, and the muffled tones of Cosette greeting whomever has arrived. A minute later, a small figure comes hopping down the stairs. Enjolras and Combeferre have never seen them before, but Courfeyrac grins.

“You caaaaame,” she calls in dramatic tones, sprawling over the edge of the sofa. Jehan quirks a small smile, hand tight on their messenger bag.

“You did ask nicely,” Jehan teases. They settle easily into the corner of the smaller couch close to Courfeyrac. They notice the others and say, just a bit shaky, “Jehan Prouvaire—nice to meet you.”

Before Enjolras and Combeferre reply, loud, boisterous laughter floods the hallway and footsteps pound from above. The group is barely in the basement before Enjolras groans.

“Grantaire,” ze hisses, and Courfeyrac pats zir arm. She doesn’t share the frustrations Enjolras does, but she can certainly see where they come from.

“He is queer,” Combeferre points out softly as the three new occupants yell and fight over seats. Immediately, Jehan looks to Courfeyrac, who scoots to the middle of the couch and smiles. Jehan launches out of their seat and tucks themself into the corner of the couch. 

Grantaire claims Jehan’s prior seat, and a buff person with a beard fit for November and long, dark hair is settled next to him. The final proper seat in the room, an armchair between Combeferre and the wall, now holds a twitchy ginger with short, straight hair. The three newcomers continue to interact loudly among themselves, ignoring the others.

At two minutes to seven, Cosette shuffles down and asks if there is anything she can get them. Combeferre turns her down politely, and she smiles and nods, but does not immediately leave. Instead, she hesitates between the couch and the stairs, worrying her bottom lip.

“You’re welcome to join us,” Courfeyrac finally says. The way her eyes light up tell Courfeyrac she made the right move, and so Cosette settles herself comfortably on the floor in front of Courfeyrac and Jehan.

They start promptly at seven. No one else shows up, and Enjolras’ opening statement is followed by struggling silence. Ze knows jumping into the politics right away is less than ideal, but isn’t quite sure where else to start. Ze is just about to ask if anyone has an issue they’d like to bring to the table when Combeferre clears his throat.

He smiles and pushes thick black frames up his nose. “I, ah—it would probably be wise to do introductions,” he says, and his voice is steady despite his nerves. “So, hello—for those of you who don’t know, I’m Will Combeferre and I guess I’m the co-founder of this…”

“LGBT group,” Enjolras supplies helpfully. Combeferre nods.

“Yes, LGBT group. I… we’ll do year in school, pronouns and…” He smiles a little “what animal you’d be if you were an animal.” Jehan lets out a little, excited gasp then blushes pink.

“So,” Combeferre continues, “I’m a sophomore, I use he, him, and his and I would be either an owl or a rhinoceros.” He looks to Enjolras and smiles; ze sighs.

“Enjolras,” ze says, ignoring zir first name. “I’m also a sophomore, my preferred pronouns are ze, zir, and zirs, and I would not be an animal.” Courfeyrac elbows zir so ze adds, “Fine. Grasshopper.”

Courfeyrac looks pleased. “I’m Lily or Courfeyrac or whatever you’d like to call me! Another sophomore which…” She glances around, “yeah, the majority of us are. My pronouns are she, her, and hers, and I thiiiiiink I’d have to be a dog.”

Cosette is between her and Jehan, so she goes next. Her voice is gentle after the brasher Courfeyrac, and she smiles politely as she says, “I’m Cosette Fauchelevent and um… I’m technically just here because I live here—I’m only a junior in high school.”

“Catholic or public?” the ginger boy in the corner asks. Cosette studies him for a half second and answers.

“Catholic. My pronouns, I guess, are she, her, and hers, and I like to think I’d be a bird, hopefully a lark.”

Eyes turn to Jehan, who is fidgeting with their hands. “I’m Jean—well, Jehan—Prouvaire, I’m a freshman who is… today, I’m using they, them, and theirs.” They speak softly, eyes downcast, and they smile apologetically as they finish, “If I could be any animal, I would be a cat.”

Grantaire is next, and his bright, dark eyes crinkle as he says, “Sebastian Grantaire, but I’ll punch you if you use my first name. Sophomore, he/him/his, and—” he stares straight at Enjolras when he says, “Bat.”

The boy next to him laughs loudly; it shakes everything. “Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes with mirth. “Right. I’m Ryan Bahorel, and you can call me whatever ‘s long as you’re not being a fuckface about it.” Cosette emits a small gasp at the language; Jehan squeaks. “I’m a junior, unless I manage to fuck something up, and I guess my pronouns are he, him, and his. And I think I’d be… probably a bear or a wolf.” His grin is a perfect cross between those two animals. Grantaire rolls his eyes.

The ginger boy unfolds himself from the chair and brings one knee up so he can fiddle with a tear in the knee of his pants. “Nathan Feuilly, you can call me Nate or Feuilly or—” He shrugs and doesn’t look at the room. All his concentration is focused on his pants. “I’m a sophomore and I use, um, he, him, and his. I’d be…” He hesitates a second too long and at the same time, Bahorel and Grantaire exclaim:

“Fox!”

Feuilly glares. “Red panda, assholes,” he answers. Everyone laughs. The remaining tension has been broken.

They open the floor to discussion about rules—respect, privacy, and the like. Grantaire, to Enjolras’ pleasure, is a staunch supporter of the “personal things said here don’t leave here” rule, and actually keeps his frustrating comments to a minimum. Cosette, to no one’s surprise, remains very quiet; but, to perhaps everyone’s surprise, Jehan speaks up. Their questions about goals and safety and conjunction with the college help Enjolras and Combeferre clarify to others and themselves exactly what they are aiming for. By the time the hour ends, all eight of them are a little bit closer.

Enjolras leaves full of determination that this will actually work out.


End file.
